


cut your heart on the high seas

by puffy_pastry



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Awkwardness, Fix-It of Sorts, Force Visions, M/M, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-28 19:11:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6341662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puffy_pastry/pseuds/puffy_pastry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Force visions are never a good thing.</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or, Obi-Wan panics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Obi-Wan panics.

He can count, on just one hand, the amount of times he’s done so. To give into the fear, into the anxiety eating at him is not something he is wont to do. It doesn’t become him. He’s one to step back and observe the situation from all angles before making a move.

Obi-Wan knows that life isn’t a game of chess, but it can still be played. People can still make moves, for better or for worse; there’s a metaphorical board and everyone and everything is on that board. Only those clever enough to find it can play and try to win – win through the power of the Queen, aiming to gain her loyalty or trying for her death.

Perhaps the game would be easier to play if the Queen was aware of the game, if she wasn’t so malleable, so easily swayed, so… brash and emotive.

Anakin is not a good Queen; he is certainly a powerful one, no one can deny that. But no one can deny that he’s rather… slow either. No, that’s not the right word for him. He’s too naïve, too wide-eyed and hopeful. And impulsive.

Force help Obi-Wan, the unpredictably of that boy will be the death of him.

Actions have consequences, Anakin’s more so than others. The galaxy turns and events slide into motion with every step that he takes. When he breathes, a butterfly flaps its wings and the winds rise in a swirling storm to meet his breaths. He is a great and terrible thing to behold.

Obi-Wan knows this, he’s seen it.

And when he talks of Padmé, when he even thinks of her…

Stars implode and a black hole swallows all that there was and ever would be in the universe. And in the vast emptiness, rocks and star dust swirl together, a new galaxy comes to being and there is life. There is Anakin and there is Padmé and the Force sings.

Even now, after all these years of not even a passing glance, a second to catch a glimpse, Anakin glows at the thought of her.

And Obi-Wan panics.

They’re going up. They’re in an elevator and Obi-Wan is reeling with the burning visions of the future – the younglings, Vader, Luke, Leia, Han, Rey, Ben… he’s almost collapsed with the weight of it all but Anakin hasn’t noticed anything.

That damnable Sith Lord – Sidious – whose true identity still remains elusive despite the visions, could be right here, announcing his intentions for the galaxy and Anakin wouldn’t notice. He could tell Anakin how he’s destined to become a Sith, how he would become a puppet who would cast off his strings only to find that they would later ensnare his grandson and Anakin would only blink and say: “Yes, but Padmé.”

So what else is there for Obi-Wan to do but panic?

“She’ll look exactly like she does in my dreams,” Anakin comments, almost offhandedly like he hasn’t realized he’s talking to a Jedi about the emotions that he is not supposed to have since he, too, is a Jedi and-

_Oh Force!_

What is Obi-Wan to do?

“I just know it. I’ve dreamt of her since t-”

“Shut up!” Obi-Wan gasps out because he knows telling Anakin that such thoughts are unbefitting and not the Jedi way will only result in nothing but flames and an all-consuming darkness. “Just shut up.”

“What?” Anakin asks with a slight frown on his face.

That dreamy glaze has faded from his eyes; it’s nice to know that Obi-Wan’s meltdown can take his mind of the Senator, if only for a second.

“Master… are you okay? You don’t look so good.” Anakin tells him, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes scanning Obi-Wan for any sign of injury. “I’m sure Padmé has a med droid in her apartment.” And damn it all to hell, that love-struck look has made a return. “I bet she doesn’t even need a med droid. She probably knows how to save lives… she’s probably saved more lives than the Jedi.”

Senator Amidala is just that, a Senator. But Anakin undoubtedly believes that she swans off to rescue pathetic life-forms and defeat Sith Lords in between dealing with politicians and assassination attempts.

“Oh Force, just shut up!” Obi-Wan snaps out. “Just… I need a minute. I need – just shut up.”

Obi-Wan needs more than a minute. He needs more than his entire lifetime to come to terms with the visions he’s seen. Even Master Yoda’s lifetime won’t suffice. Seven hells, Obi-Wan needs an eternity.

But Anakin won’t even let him have a second.

“Excuse me?”

He sounds affronted and doesn’t look love-struck anymore. With raised brows and a dumbfounded expression, he doesn’t look like someone who will come to destroy the galaxy either. It was funny how deceiving appearances could be.

“Did you just tell me to shut up?” he demands to know, voice incredulous and laced with an undertone of rising anger.

Obi-Wan doesn’t know anything but the fact that he cannot allow Anakin to fall for the Senator any more than he already has.

“I know you’re my Master, but you don’t ever tell me to s-”

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan cut in tiredly and he’s acting on nothing but instinct when he staggers over to his Padawan. “Just shut up.”

His mind is blank and he’s running on autopilot when he raises a hand and curls his fingers around Anakin’s neck. His brain is empty and the Force is silent as he closes his eyes and pulls Anakin’s head down for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Star Wars fanfic. Let me know what you think! 
> 
> It's not beta-read so if you see any mistakes, please tell me.
> 
> Title taken from Gacela of the Dark Death by Federico García Lorca.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

The Force roars to life with Anakin’s shock, crashing down around Obi-Wan like waves breaking upon rocks. Obi-Wan’s eyes shoot open. He finds himself gazing at blue skies, at the calm before the storm – gazing into Anakin’s eyes – and staggers back.

_Oh Force, what have I done?_

Anakin stares at him, mouth slack and eyes wide. Obi-Wan has never seen him at a loss for words. He would be celebrating if he wasn’t mirroring Anakin’s expression and sharing his disbelief.

“What-”

_Ding!_

The elevator doors slide open and Jar-Jar Binks exclaims in surprise upon seeing Obi-Wan. “Obi? Obi! Obi! Mesa so smilen to see’en yousa. Wahoo!”

“Jar-Jar!” Obi-Wan half-yells his name like the Gungan is his saving grace. And in this moment, he really is. “We’re here to see Senator Amidala about t-”

“Oh, mesa know the Jedi coming.” Jar-Jar tells him with an enthusiastic nod, ears flopping about wildly with the motion. “Mesa bery scared for the Senator. S-”

“Yes, thank you.” Obi-Wan says, waving the Gungan off as he manages to compose himself enough to step out of the elevator without collapsing. “If you could please lead the way.”

Jar-Jar beckons them to follow him and leads them towards Padmé’s apartment with a spring in his step. Obi-Wan knows that Anakin is following close behind but he cannot bring himself to look back at his Padawan. If he glances back for even a second, he knows that the meagre amount of composure he’s managed to instil within himself will go flying out the window.

_Force help me, I need a drink._

“Senator Amidala,” he calls out instead, announcing his presence to the young Senator as he enters the room. “It’s a great pleasure to see you again, milady.”

She rises alongside her Captain and maid, Dormé to greet them. The three are regal and composed and Obi-Wan hopes he doesn’t look as flustered as he feels while standing beside them.

“It has been far too long Master Kenobi. I’m so glad our paths have crossed again…” she pauses and the polite smile on her face fades. “But I must warn you that I think your presence here is unnecessary.”

“I’m sure that both the Chancellor and the Jedi Council have justifiable concerns for sending us to protect you.” Obi-Wan counters but he’s lost her – her eyes have fallen on Anakin and they flash in recognition.

“Ani?” she says incredulously and her lips curve up into a delighted smile that makes her face glow. “My goodness, you’ve grown!”

“What?” Anakin asks absentmindedly, voice confused and Obi-Wan doesn’t need eyes in the back of his head to know that Anakin is looking at him, that he hasn’t taken his gaze off him since they stepped out of the elevator. “That is, yes, I have.”

Padmé stares at him, more confused than appreciative of the physical changes. Obi-Wan knows that Anakin’s eyes don’t stray from him. He remembers the heated look the two had shared in his visions – a spark that ignited within them that made them oblivious to everything else but each other. He doesn’t know if this situation is any better than that but what’s done is done and he cannot undo the past.

Perhaps later, he’ll look into Force-visions and turning back time, but right now his number one priority is ensuring Padmé’s safety.

The visions had revealed, in stark and horrifying images, the curse that would haunt the Skywalker line if Anakin was to fall. They showed Obi-Wan the events that would lead Anakin down the Dark-side but were frustratingly vague when it came to exposing those that would wreak havoc upon the galaxy. Obi-Wan doesn’t know who attempted to assassinate the Senator but he does know that this mission assigned to them, the task of ensuring her safety, is perhaps the crux of Anakin’s downfall.

“Our presence will be invisible, milady,” he assures Padmé as they all sit down, speaking because he could feel the atmosphere slowly turning awkward the longer everyone remained silent.

“I am very grateful you are here, Master Kenobi.” Captain Typho tells him and Obi-Wan is grateful to the man for speaking up. “The situation is more dangerous than the Senator will admit.”

“I don’t need more security, I need answers.” Padmé tells them with a stubborn lilt to her voice and a determined glare. “I want to know who’s trying to kill me.”

“We’re here to protect you Senator, not to start an investigation,” Obi-Wan informs her and this is comfortable ground. Arguing with politicians, trying to negotiate – it makes him feel more like himself and helps him regain his equilibrium.

“Don’t worry Padmé,” Anakin says with fierce determination, finally focusing on the situation at hand, and Obi-Wan hopes against hope that he’s forgotten about the… event that had occurred previously. “We will find out who’s trying to kiss you.”

 _Right,_ Obi-Wan thinks in faint dismay and mortification, _he clearly hasn’t forgotten then_.

The Senator, Captain Typho, Dormé and even Jar-Jar, the epitome of embarrassment, eye him with equal parts concern and bewilderment. Obi-Wan stiffens, muscles locking up as his lungs fail him for a few seconds, and heroically resists the urge to scream.

Perhaps he’ll simply escape into the night – leave the Jedi Order and the Republic, never to be heard of again.

“Kill you.” Anakin corrects himself hastily, desperately trying to backpedal as if the damage hasn’t been dealt already. “We’ll find out who’s trying to kill you.”

There is silence and Obi-Wan wishes for the Force to claim him, to take him away from this hellish nightmare.

“We are not going to exceed our mandate, Anakin.” He manages to choke out, reciting the Jedi Code in his mind like a mantra, remaining adamant in his decision to not even turn his head in Anakin’s direction.

“Nor would I expect you to,” the Senator speaks up and Obi-Wan only just manages to stop himself from thanking her for breaking the awkward silence. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I wish to retire.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan agrees in what he wants to be an even tone but is probably not. In his mind, he is running about flapping his arms crazily and thinking: _no please, don’t go. Don’t leave me here!_ He hopes his expression is blank and not revealing his inner-thoughts. “We will discuss the measures of security with Captain Typho.”

“I’m afraid I will be retiring as well, Master Jedi.” Captain Typho informs him as he moves to stand up with the Senator. “I must oversee the funeral proceedings for Sabé. The Naboo have lost a brave woman today. We shall leave the discussions for another day.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan repeats and watches as the Senator stands up to leave with her maid close behind. “My Padawan and I shall remain in your quarters as security.”

“There will be no need for that, Master Jedi,” Captain Typho tells him. “I have personally hand-picked the best of the Naboo Armed Forces to guard the Senator. We take care of our own.”

“Surely a little outside help wouldn’t go amiss,” Obi-Wan tries to argue.

“You are very generous to offer us your assistance, Obi-Wan,” the Senator says in an even tone. “But I’m afraid I must decline.”

“Senator…” Obi-Wan speaks up, the smallest hint of desperation clear in his voice. “The Chancellor had specifically requested Jedi assistance in this matter. It is our civil duty to protect you.”

Padmé merely offers him a steely-eyed gaze in response and Obi-Wan knows that pressing the matter further will lead to the same result. He admits defeat and acquiesces with a nod, repressing the urge to sigh.

Padmé and her maid offer their goodbye and leave the room with long, graceful strides with Captain Typho at their heels. Obi-Wan sighs as soon as they’ve left and brings a hand to his face to hide from Anakin, disguising his intention by rubbing his temples with his fingers. When he feels Anakin scooting closer to him, he closes his eyes and wonders if resolutely denying occurrence of the kiss ever took place would make Anakin believe he’d imagined it.

“Master-”

Anakin’s com-link trills noisily, causing both of them to jump. He swears under his breath and struggles to pull the device from his robes.

“It’s the Chancellor,” he murmurs and when Obi-Wan risks a glance at his Padawan; he sees him glaring furiously at the com-link with a frown and furrowed brows. “I’d better take this.”

Anakin is always at the beck and call of Chancellor Palpatine, always leaping up to meet the man whenever he is wanted. Obi-Wan sometimes fears that he is more loyal to the politician than the Jedi Order and usually admonishes him for being so eager to obey the man’s wishes.

Obi-Wan sighs in relief as Anakin strides to the elevator and relaxes when he hears to sound of the elevator doors opening.

Today, the Chancellor’s constant need to have Anakin by his side is a blessing. He could kiss the aging man in gratitude. Shuddering at the mental image the thought conjures and thinks: _I’ve had enough of spontaneously kissing people. Never again._

He waits another few minutes before getting up to leave for the Jedi Temple, all the while wondering just how he could turn Anakin’s attention away from him.

 

 

 _The Force_ , Sidious thinks, _works in mysterious ways_.

It showed him the rise of his empire and its fall. It showed him Skywalker – more machine than man – enslaved, finally his thrall after years of careful manipulation. It showed him Skywalker casting off his chains, turning for the Dark-side as if it could ever be so simple; as if hearing the pleading cries of his estranged son was all he had ever needed to embrace the Light once more.

It taught him something important, something that would prevent the downfall of the Grand Plan. It taught him that Skywalker could not be controlled through fear or hate. He could not be bound to a master – not one of the Light and certainly not one of the Dark.

Skywalker was the Force incarnate, and to break him was not as easy as promising to save the lives of those that he loved. He could not be controlled or bound or broken, not forever.

Oh, but he could be swayed. He could be made to bend, over and over until he was drowning in the Dark – until it would consume and become all that he had ever known. But not through fear or hate. No, Skywalker would remain disgustingly in the Light even as he fell to the siren call of the Dark, even as he invited it into his heart.

The visions had made Sidious aware of this, had shown him the error of his ways and Sidious was nothing if not a quick learner.

Fear and hate could lap at Skywalker’s feet but that was all that they could ever do – they couldn’t earn his loyalty, couldn’t tie him to a person or a cause. But something else could, and the visions had shown Sidious exactly what he’d need to ensure Skywalker belonged to him. It was such a simple and ridiculous thing and the Force itself had revealed to him what it was. It had shown him Skywalker’s greatest strength and his greatest weakness.

Love.

It was love.

A knock on the door pulls the Dark Lord from his thoughts and he is quick to dispel any miasma of the Dark-side that lingers around him. He curves his lips into a soft smile, one that a kind and elderly man might wear.

The doors to his office open and Skywalker steps in, the Force swirling around him pleasantly.

“You wanted to see me Chancellor?” he asks almost shyly.

The boy is always happy around Sidious. But the Dark Lord can sense the nervousness that lies underneath. Skywalker is so eager to please him, almost as much as he is afraid that Sidious might spurn him at a moment’s notice.

“Ah, yes!” Sidious exclaims, feigning happiness and watching the boy return his smile with one of his own. “Do come in Anakin, do come in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and this is chapter two. still not beta-read so please point out any mistakes if you see them.
> 
> also, i shamelessly took lines from AOTC. forgive me. 
> 
> thank you for all the comments and kudos


	3. Chapter 3

“Excuse me, could you please repeat that?” Obi-Wan asks as politely as he can manage. “I must have misheard you. It sounded like you wanted me to-”

“To seduce Skywalker? Yes, we do.” Master Windu finishes and though his voice is smooth, he looks pained, as if saying the words cause him great agony. “We should never have trained him, he was too old, had already formed too many attachments. But we can’t dwell on the past, not when the future of the galaxy is at risk.”

Obi-Wan has been struck dumb, he cannot be more shocked. Master Yoda can get off his seat, merrily sashay towards Obi-Wan and procure a bag of Rex’s greasy burgers to slap him around the face with and Obi-Wan still won’t be as shocked by his actions as the suggestion Master Windu has just made.

“Anakin is my Padawan,” he chokes out, forcing the image of Yoda sashaying out of his mind with a small shake of his head. “He’s only a child. Surely there must be-”

“Some other way, hmm?” Master Yoda inquires, speaking for the first since Obi-Wan sought their council and told them about his visions. “Perhaps ostracize Skywalker, hmm? Or perhaps kill him, we should?”

“No!” Obi-Wan cries, horrified by the idea. “No, Anakin hasn’t committed any crimes yet. We can’t condemn him for what he hasn’t done.”

This is a mess. Obi-Wan is beginning to regret turning to Master Yoda and Windu for help. But what else what he supposed to do? He can’t do this alone. Going to them had seemed like a brilliant idea when he’d run out of Senator Amidala’s apartment. It doesn’t sound so brilliant anymore, not when they think the best course of action is to have Anakin fall in his bed instead of the Senator’s.

“We’ll find the Sith Lord,” he tries even though he knows that the suggestion is nothing more than a weak excuse. They have no clues, nothing that might lead them to him, no idea as to when Anakin might meet him and fall under his influence.

Obi-Wan is suddenly struck by a horrific thought that leaves him reeling.

_What if Anakin has already met the Sith Lord?_

The thought hadn’t occurred to him before but now that he thinks about it, the likelihood of it is almost certain, at least to him. He glances at the two Masters before him and knows that they too, believe it to be true.

_Just how long has the Sith Lord been manipulating… oh…_

“You want me to do the same,” Obi-Wan realizes. He stares at their carefully blank faces and thinks that this is not the Jedi way.

This is the Sith Lord’s doing, it’s what he’s reduced them to. Jedi do not abandon their morals or compromise their beliefs for anything. And yet, here they are, preparing for war against the Separatists and deliberating on whether or not to manipulate someone, manipulate Anakin.

Obi-Wan refuses. “No.” he says, voice hard and firm. “I won’t do it.”

“Is there another way?” Master Windu demands to know bluntly.

“There has to be,” Obi-Wan replies but when he racks his brain for a solution, he comes up with nothing. “I’m sure we can come up with some sort of p-”

“Obi-Wan…” Master Windu cuts in, leaning forward stare at him with unblinking eyes. “Is there another way?”

The Council can expel Anakin from the Order. But even if they manage to come up with a legitimate reason to do so, they will only be pushing Anakin towards the Sith Lord.

They can assign him to a mission near the Outer Rim, far away from the temptation of attachment on a desolate planet but without the knowledge of just how far the Sith Lord’s power stretches, the move will only alienate Anakin and make it easier for the Sith Lord to turn him.

They can use the Force-visions to prevent the future – send a Jedi to Tatooine to protect Anakin’s mother, grant him the rank of Knight and then Master to appease him, accept his marriage to Senator Amidala when he takes that step. They can make him the only expectation and abandon their morals, compromise their beliefs and watch the Order slowly crumble.

They can kill – no. Obi-Wan’s heart clenches painfully and he rejects the idea immediately. They can’t. That is, Obi-Wan can’t.

“Mediate on this, we should.” Master Yoda declares, slowly getting up from his seat. “Leads to many problems, a decision hastily made. Convene tomorrow, we will.”

Obi-Wan stands up on protocol and bows to the two Masters, going through the ingrained movements with his mind a million miles away.

“Placed upon you, a great burden has,” Master Yoda says to Obi-Wan as he brushes past him. “Know that you are not alone, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan knows he isn’t alone, that’s why he’d revealed his Force-visions to the two people he trusted above all others. He knows that the Jedi are his family and will support him through this, he’s always known this.

The thing is, he didn’t anticipated their reactions, had thought that maybe they wouldn’t take his words at face value. He has always known that Anakin’s presence caused a rift in the Order; that he would always be treated differently because of his past but he hadn’t known that the Council distrusted Anakin just as he did them.

Master Yoda and Windu had accepted his visions as the truth as if they had always suspected he would fall to the Dark-side. Why did they doubt him? What had he done to garner their mistrust? What did they see in Anakin had Obi-Wan didn’t? How blind has Obi-Wan been?

_It’s the Sith Lord_ , Obi-Wan thinks desperately, _he’s the one who’s leading Anakin down this path. Anakin would never have turned if it weren’t for him._

He walks to his chamber and sheds his robe, resisting the urge to crawl into bed and sleep until the world makes sense again. Anakin still hasn’t returned. Good. It will give Obi-Wan some much needed time to meditate on the problem. He sits down and clears his mind, a task more difficult to accomplish but understandably so after the events of the day. The Force, when he closes his eyes and gives himself to it, is a swirling, writhing entity around him. Obi-Wan reaches for it, reaches for answers but it is as elusive as smoke, revealing nothing more than it already has.

There is trouble brewing, and it seems that Obi-Wan is trapped in the eye of the storm.

 

Sidious sputters, tries to gasp for breath while Anakin hovers over him, anxious and concerned. Death by choking on tea was never how Sidious thought he would go, but it seems likely now.

“Chancellor, are… are you alright?” Anakin asks, he hesitantly places a hand on Sidious’ back and pats him gently. “Should I call for someone?”

“No,” Sidious manages to croak out, waving off the boy’s concern. “Please, do sit down. It’s quite alright.”

Anakin falters, torn between listening to him and wanting to help him, but eventually goes back to his seat. He sits there, twisting his robe between his fingers and biting his lip as Sidious regains his composure.

“Beg pardon?” Sidious says between coughs, teary-eyed and flushed red, because this is more important than tea going down the wrong pipe.

“Obi-Wan kissed me.” Anakin repeats. He is clearly confused, brows furrowed and mouth pulled into a frown, desperately trying to understand why his Master would do such a thing.

Sidious knows.

Kenobi is a paragon of the Jedi way, as Light as they come, and he would not break his reverently-kept Code for nothing. His only flaw is that when it comes to Anakin, he is blind. Excuses are made for the boy’s more questionable actions; he is given leeway where others are not, but that could be explained away as mere favouritism. Kenobi loves the boy, of this Sidious is certain, but is he in love with him?

No. And even if he were, Sidious thinks he would show enough restrain, enough common sense so as not to throw himself at the boy in public elevators. Unless, of course, he knew something, say perhaps, the depth of Anakin’s love for Padmé and all that would follow were is allowed to bloom.

From the moment that Sidious had met that lonely slave boy from Tatooine to now, where that slave boy stands before him, a young and noble Jedi, he had whispered of Padmé. Of her beauty, her grace, her kindness, for the sole reason that the boy would fall for her. And he had, he had fallen so hard in fact that he would have torn the galaxy asunder for her.

Sidious had not known that, had thought he could appease the boy were she to vanish, had thought he would always be placed above her in the boy’s heart. The Force had revealed that to be untrue, and ever since then, Sidious has been trying to think of a way to draw his attentions away from her.

Kenobi, though unaware of it he may be, has provided him with the perfect opportunity to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no excuse.
> 
> sorry.
> 
> still not beta'd. please tell me if there are any mistakes.
> 
> thank you for all the love.


End file.
